


Ghastly Times

by Caoten



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Original Work
Genre: Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, Aromantic, Asexual Character, Bisexual Character, Canon Queer Character, Lesbian Character, Major Original Character(s), Nonbinary Character, Queer Themes, Trans Character
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-12
Updated: 2017-12-27
Packaged: 2019-02-14 00:29:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12995859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caoten/pseuds/Caoten
Summary: The year is 2015. The wizarding world has made enormous leaps into the future since the historical Battle of Hogwarts, and a new era has begun. It is an era of electronics, new fields within witchcraft, and other modernities. Most things have changed for the better. Few people go hungry, most of the Dark Lords' followers have disappeared, and Hogwarts has had the same defense against the dark arts teacher for years. Not all things have changed for the better though, and dark forces are once again at play.It is in this new world that five young children board the Hogwarts express: Vesa (the aloof one), Dany (the proud one), Anya (the loving one), Ellinor (the assertive one), and Marcus (the protective one). Their years at Hogwarts will be as any others' in many ways, but they will also be horribly different.(This is an original story set in the Harry Potter universe. Almost all featured characters will be original, and the plot will be of my own head.)





	1. Prologue

The room was dim. Not dimmer than usual, but the electrical lamps covering the walls were set to imitate the light of candles. She was not entirely sure _why_ the people at the school insisted on having lamps that threatened to permanently impair your eyes in every single room. Maybe it was an age thing, something old people liked. She hoped it was, and not just to keep her from reading the heavy volumes covering every inch of the office room designated to her visits. She knew reading was forbidden. No one at the school had ever implied it, but she knew that you were only to touch things given to you. No one had ever given her a book.

Suddenly, the door to to her left opened, and the creaking made her spin around where she was sat. It was only Auntie Cassie. Billy resumed her breathing again, her heart starting to slow down. Auntie Cassie was wearing a heavy, brown dress with multiple layers draping around her body, and her intimidatingly shaped hat was neatly placed over her hair. Billy knew that Auntie Cassie was not the type of woman who made heads turn, and she knew that Auntie Cassie’s gait and posture were the opposites of what made people respect a person. But that did not stop Billy from worshipping her. Auntie Cassie was the saint who had come to Billy’s rescue, who had listened to her and loved her.

Auntie Cassie removed her hat, sweeping the water droplets that had gathered in the nooks of its horns off of it. She turned to look at Billy, her eyes beaming.

“Hello, dear.” she said with a warm voice. She shuffled over the floor to where Billy was sitting. “I was wondering when you were to come visit your favourite aunt next.” With a warm chuckle - which Billy noticed was more for Auntie Cassie herself than for her - she pressed her horned hat down on Billy’s head.

Billy giggled, pushing up the hat so her eyes were free again (but letting it stay tipped back on her head, the horns almost touching the surface of the table she was sitting on). She leaned forward, putting her light weight onto her hands grasping the edge of the table, swinging her legs under it. It was a position others might describe as ‘excited’ or ‘intrigued’, but she had always had trouble placing emotions.

Cassandra gave her a long look. Billy did not break eye contact, but instead focused even harder on staring into the woman’s eyes. She smiled. _This little girl…_ She sighed, and threw the child a small paper bag. “Just don’t tell Alice.”

Billy was not listening, already having ripped the bag open, and was busy stuffing her face full with the wriggling caramel worms. Though, of course she would not tell Alice. You do not tell anyone anything. Especially not grown-ups.

While Billy was eating (she was so _very_ hungry), Cassandra washed her hands. She might have a laidback attitude to rules, but she simply could not _not_ respect _others’_ need for hygiene. When she was done, she started to scramble around through the cupboards on the walls and the boxes strawn all over the office. She soon found what she needed, and (for the sake of the girl) carefully put them down on her working table. She was usually much louder in her work. What she placed in front of herself was a varied collection of herbs and roots, as well as a few sealed bottles. She started working, grinding and chopping up the ingredients and throwing them into the miniature cauldron hanging above the table.

“So, did you like the tape i gave you?” she asked, her hands busy and face turned down to her work.

Billy was quiet for a moment, carefully licking off the sugar from her fingers, before answering. “No.”

“Oh? why’s that?”

“They...scream so much. And they aren’t even real sisters.”

At that, Auntie Cassie chuckled. “I know what you mean. I always liked them, but Alice could never stand them.” She looked up from her work. “But it is the only music I have from when I was your age. You see, it was very hard to record music back then, most of us didn’t even have tapes!”

Billy observed her Auntie for a few seconds, saying nothing. “I like the music they play in Laverne’s much better,” she confided.

Auntie Cassie smiled down into her pot at that. “Are you still in Laverne’s a lo-”

“Yes!” the girl exclaimed, interrupting the woman in her excitement. “Yes yes yes! They have the best cream buns! And glazed muffins, and whirlpool cake, and stinging sweeties, and hearty treats, and raisin biscuits, and magic mints and…”

Cassandra fondly listened with half an ear as the child kept listing all the sweets her favourite cafe sold. She knew Billy had not tasted most of them, only the ones the change that she had given her before had covered, and the ones that the nice young man working the frontdesk had given her when no one was looking. But Billy did not have to have tasted all the pastries to love them, she loved them because they were served at Laverne’s.

“...and Jarah always gives me the blue ones because he knows those are my favourites!” Billy loudly concluded. She inhaled sharply, suppressing how out of breath she had gotten from her sudden outburst of passion for the sweets sold at the hottest cafe in Hogsmeade.

Cassandra quickly looked up to her favourite girl, who sat huffing with red cheeks, and then put the cauldron to a boil. “Would you like to go there on our next Hog-trip, dear?” she asked.

Billy sat stunned for a moment, but then started nodding so violently Cassandra was worried her head was going to fall off her neck. She laughed. “Let’s say so then, sweetie.”

After a few minutes of silence, she started whistling absentmindedly, while Billy sat on the wooden table, swinging her legs just as absentmindedly. Soon, Cassandra noticed that Billy had started to hit her boots together to the rhythm of her whistling, a hidden dance. Billy really loved those boots, and while she was a very excited girl, Cassandra did not know if she had ever been as excited as when she had gifted them to her. They had been hers back when _she_ was a child, and had been tucked away in a forgotten box for _years_. She smiled at the memory.

She often worried for Billy, more often than not. She worried when she was alone, she worried when she was holding lessons, she worried when she was trying to fall asleep next to Alice, and she worried whenever it was time for Billy to head home again. She had often played with the idea of setting up a home for Billy with Alice and herself. They could live together here at Hogwarts, and never see her parents again. Billy should never have to go home to them. She was not even sure if they would notice that their daughter was gone if she were to take her. Or, their _son_. She scoffed.

“Are you angry?”

Cassandra was pulled out of her thoughts. “S-sorry?”

“You breathed strong. I have to climb out the window when dad does that.” Billy saw that Auntie Cassie’s eyes became glazed, and she quickly looked away. She did not like when adults showed emotions. Especially not when she did not understand _why_ that emotion had bubbled up. She hoped it was not her fault.

Cassandra sighed. “Don’t worry about it.” _I just want you to be happy. Happy and safe._ She forcefully sealed the big jar she had filled with the substance she had been working on since entering the office. She then poured water from the tap into two glass bottles, and shoved them into a basket together with a plate and a knife. When she was done with packing for her and Billy, she covered the basket with a cloth, and turned and walked over to where the girl was sitting.

“Ready to go?”

Billy nodded, happy for an escape from the tense atmosphere looming in the room, and hopped down from the table. Auntie Cassie took her by the hand, and then…just like that, the office was empty, and the whirling dust was the only thing implying that someone had been there just a few seconds ago.


	2. Bird's Treat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It is a steaming hot day. The two children Dany and Vesa are walking through Diagon Alley at the last minute before they need to head off to Platform 9 3/4 to go to Hogwarts. Their very first year at Hogwarts. They talk, they laugh, they grumble. But especially, they visit one of Diagon Alley's best known pet stores - "Fantastic Familiars".

“Uuuugh!”

Vesa slurped on his honey milkshake, all of it long gone.

“I can’t believe it! Can you believe it?”

He took one long suck.

“Me! neither! God!” they threw their hands in the air, growing red from the frustration.

He slowly put his milkshake down on the table.

“It is unbelievable! Un-be- _lieve_ -able!” they said, putting emphasis on each syllable. “I tell you, I normally wouldn’t stand for this sort of...rubbish! If my mother was here…”

He put his hand into the pocket of his overalls, and after shuffling around in it for a bit, he pulled out two galleons and put them on the saucer in front of him.

“I mean, what are we? Animals? No! No, we are not animals! So we have rights! _Human_ rights! If I want a goddamn snake, _then I goddamn will!_ ”

He stood up from the table and turned to walk away from the outdoor-cafe. He heard the upset huffing of Dany hurriedly following after him. They half-jogged to catch up with him (it did not take a lot of effort to catch up to his aloof shuffling) and angrily continued:

“Like, what am I supposed to do? Get a bloody _owl!?_ ”

“Maybe,” Vesa answered quietly, dragging his feet.

Dany had opened their mouth to continue talking his ears off, but closed it after having had it open looking like a fish for a few seconds. “Do you think so?” they then asked, with a voice that was a mixture of shy bafflement and shock, suddenly sounding unsure of their pet preferences.

He shrugged slightly. “I’m getting one.”

After that, they walked in silence, Dany quietly mumbling and cursing in thought under their breath, and Vesa dragging his feet seemingly completely zoned out. They passed a lot of houses, a lot of stores and cafes, and _a lot_ of people. Vesa did not pay them much attention, only the occasional storefront promising _“New Fashionable Cloaks”_ or _“Bewitching Boots for All Weathers!”_ caught his eye. He took a deep breath, exhaling a relaxed sigh. It was a hot day, the dust from the people scurrying around heavy in the air, and he could consequently feel a drought starting to build up on his skin. Anyway, being out in the sun felt nice. It had been a while, he had to admit. He looked up at the sun. He did not squint at it, but instead kept a steady, painful eye contact. It was not a challenge for brawl and punches of any sort. He was not challenging the sun. Daniel would probably laugh at that, and tell anyone who would listen that it would not be too unlike Vesa to actuallly try to fight an extraterrestrial body. If he knew Daniel right, _everyone_ would listen. After a few seconds he turned his gaze away, still partially blinded.

“Vesa, look!” Dany yelled suddenly.

He raised his eyes to look to where they were pointing. _Ah._ It was an animal store. _“Fantastic Familiars”_ , it was called.

“We are going in,” Dany proclaimed, already walking towards the storefront. Inside the glass there were tens of horned bugs marching in flowing patterns, and a lone snake wound around a thick branch hovering midair. The beetles really did look like they were dancing, wagging their behinds together, moving in circular patterns beneath the serpent looming above them. The store personnel had probably put some kind of spell on the snake to keep it from throwing a feast for itself. A few minutes went by, and when Vesa finally snapped out of watching the hypnotic beetle dance through the glass window, Dany was already inside, bothering the store clerk.

The bell in the door chimed as he walked into the cool-aired shop.

“That can’t _possibly_ be true!” Dany’s voice echoed through the room, seeming loud even in the store full of shrieking and cooing animals.

Vesa sighed heavily to himself, before walking over to the desk. _Here it goes again._

“I’m sorry, miss. You must certainly understand that I’m not the one in charge of the rules at Hogwarts.” the clerk said in a professional tone, but the twitching in his left eye became more and more obvious every passing second.

“Well, then what are you good for!?” they bit, putting a single, shaking finger in the poor man’s face. “And do _not_ call me that!”

“Dany.” Vesa said hardheaded. “Is it really that important? Please get an owl.” He pointed towards one of the cages hanging behind the clerk - in it sat a big, lean owl with a thick, black feather coat. “That one. Get that one. And,” he looked to the clerk, “don’t call them that.”

Money changed owners, and soon, Dany was holding their new owl.

“I will call her…” they thought for a few seconds. “Raven.”

 _What._ “Are you su-”

“Oh my god,” the clerk weased.

“Because she is black and elegant,” they explained. “And they are messengers of death, you see. All great witches had ravens, take Morrigan for example.”

“I don’t think Morrigan wa-”

“ _Raven_ "  , Dany interrupted, continuing their monologue as if no one else was in the room. “You were a good decision, good I have _such_ good taste.” they coddled, stroking the bird through the cage bars.

Vesa and the young clerk both stared at Dany caressing their new companion Raven in stunned disbelief. The young man slowly turned to Vesa:

“Do you...Do you need one too?”

It took a moment for him to tear himself away from the scene. “Uh. Yeah.”

The clerk nodded, starting to regain his focus. “Whatcha want then? A toad would probably suit you.”

Vesa shot the man a look. Was that a taunt? He could not see any malice in his eyes, but you could never be sure. He nodded to himself. Then it was decided. He would not be getting a toad.

“So d’you want like a European green toad or an uhm..American toad or something?” the clerk’s voice came from behind a shelf from deeper within the store, audibly shuffling through all the different cages.

“I want a rat.” _What._

“Huh?” the clerk’s head shot around the corner of the shelf that he was currently turning upside down. “Why? Uh, I mean, sure. Of course. ” He stepped over to another shelf further down the seemingly infinite isles stretching far into the store. “What colour? Big or small?” he fished up a metal box from a big crater standing on one of the lower shelves, flipped the box in the air, and tossed it onto the counter. He slid over the floor so that the counter was between him and Vesa.

“Is that safe? Can’t they get hurt?” Vesa asked, worriedly trying to survey the box for visible damage. The box had landed quite hard on the counter, and on top of that he could not for his life understand how a rat could fit in it, and for it to store _several_ …

“No no, it’s cool,” the clerk said and unlocked the hinges keeping the box’s lid closed. “Look.”

The box clicked open with a low, whirring sound and a cloud of smog erupted from within. Slowly, the clerk opened the lid. Almost immediately, a heap of rats emerged, scampering out and trampling over each other in their desperate escape. As they ran over the counter surface (and the clerk desperately tried to catch them all, “No, you! Come back here…! We will talk about this later, Ansgar! Ya hear me!? No-no-no, Lovisa! Wait!”) Vesa counted there to be six rats. Six rats currently taunting the clerk.

Ignoring the newly hired rat catcher, Vesa walked forward, and curiously peeked down into the box. Its depth was unfathomable. There were dozens and dozens of tunnels, wheels, lamps, heaps of pellets, _everything_ a rat could ask for. He reached into the box, and its inner world, with his hand, carefully feeling through the areas closest to the opening of the box. He could swear he felt a church tower at one point. Was there an entire damned city down there?

Rat city.

Then, his fingers brushed against short, bristly fur. He heard a low snort and felt how the fur under his hand shuddered from his touch. He quickly grabbed the tiny animal around its belly and snatched it up out of its home. The world of its rat peers. He had not realised how deep the box actually was - his arm seemed to be pulling up for hours - until, at last, the rat clasped in his fist surfaced from the depths.

“Hey, put her back! Don’t I seem to have enough problems!?”

Vesa ignored the yelling clerk. He curiously watched the pile of fur in his hand shudder in the bright light and loud noise from the on-going rat fight.

It - or, _she_ \- was a beautiful creature. Small in size, round as a marble, with tough, light grey fur and pink, round ears. Vesa lowered his face to be at eye level with the rat.

He looked deep into her eyes. She looked back.

“Graham.” he concluded.

Graham’s nose twitched. Vesa took it as approval.

“You ready?” he said to no one in particular, but hoping that Dany would be the one to answer. His voice seemed to come from far, far away.

“Mm,” Dany hummed, seemingly unaware of how their surroundings had developed during the last couple of minutes. Or maybe they just didn’t care enough to check. They did not take their eyes off of their new owl for even a split second. “Yeah, we’re going,” they continued.

Vesa slammed a few galleons down on the counter, and so, they left the clerk yelling at the scampering rats behind, and walked out of the store with their two new companions in their possession. Dany carried Raven in her cage in one hand, and Vesa had pocketed Graham in his chest pocket. They were once again out in the hot, hot summer air.

_Good I don’t have too much mail to send._


	3. The Dark Lady and the Red Tulip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Hogwarts Express is once again making its way up North, this year with the class of 2015. In one of the train's compartments, a very socially outgoing and loud girl is sitting, trying her best to lure a laugh out of the girls that she has decided to befriend. Her name is Ellinor, and she only hopes to make new friends.

“...And then she says, with her mouth full, mind you, ‘I’m here to donate sperm!’” She slapped her thigh and doubled over, shrieking from laughter.

The other girls shifted awkwardly, all too nervous to open their mouths in case a giggle was to slip out. The corners of some of the older’s mouths twitched though, but they pressed their lips white tight.

“What?” she asked loudly, a smug smile playing over her face. “I didn’t know that story was about you girls! How much did they pay you?” She started laughing again, snorting with her head bent back over the seat’s backboard.

Still, no one said anything, and even though Ellinor was basically screaming at this point, the compartment felt awfully quiet. Two girls scooted farther apart from each other. One started ruffling through the backpack that she hold cradled in her lap. All of them were blushing profusely, subconsciously opening up their mouths to prove to each other that they had _not_ been the woman in the story.

Suddenly, the slide door was pushed open. Everyone in the compartment - except Ellinor, who was still reeling in her seat - turned to look. Two children stood in the doorway. Probably first years as well, they didn’t look all too big.

One was a short boy with a round face and soft features. He looked terribly out of place. He was wearing his school uniform, though the robe was put on backwards and he was wearing a knitted sweater over his robes. He was holding his hat in one hand, looking like he wasn’t quite sure what to with it. He stood a little bit behind of his friend, staring out into space and fiddling with the hem of his sweater.

The other one was already wearing their school uniform as well, cloak, robes, pointed shoes - all neatly ironed and polished, a perfect fit. Instead of the pointed hat that the girls in the compartment had packed in their bags, the student wore a head cloth tightly wrapped around their hair in neat folds. They looked surprisingly skinny for an eleven-year-old, with a sharp nose and a clear jawline. They took one look into the compartment, and when they registered the burly girl inside’s loud presence, their eyes widened and with a suppressed squeal, they quickly slammed the door shut.

The girls in the compartment saw how the two children quickly made their way away from where they were sitting, the boy dragging his feet and the one with the headdress leading the way with sauntering steps and a haughty - but obviously quite stressed - look on their face. Their mouth moved rapidly and the boy nodded absentmindedly. The girls sat stunned for a few seconds, before uncomfortably but conscientiously turning their heads back to Ellinor, who seemed to not have noticed the two visitors’ sudden appearance and disappearance whatsoever.

Eventually, however, Ellinor’s laughter  died out, her chest heaving and her cheeks painted red. She puffed out a high exclaiming sigh before finally composing herself. “Okay, enough of that.” She straightened her back, putting a lock of hair behind her ear, and looked at each of the girls. “So what do all of you do for fun? I’m a bit of a makeup and ‘partay’ girl myself, but maybe you people- Sorry, i mean _we_ people. I don’t think _we_ need to do makeup, do we? Do you use makeup, or can you just...” she waved her hand in the air, imitating a stage magician she had once seen on cable TV. “... _Magic_ it on?” She beamed out a big, genuine smile that seemed to warm up the entire train compartment.

“You could do that, yes,” one of the girls said, trying to sound confident after the shock of the strange girl’s raunchy manner and laughing fit, and put a lock of hair behind her own ear too. She was small and skinny, the kind of girl that could get caught in the wind and get blown off of the ground as easy as nothing. She had curly red hair down to her chin, it was surprisingly thick for her otherwise sick appearance. “But, well, _you_ couldn’t”

“I bet I could,” Ellinor retorted, still smiling, but slightly more strained.

The girl lifted her hands up in front of her face to defend herself, shaking them renouncingly. “No no no, that’s not what I meant!” She smiled apologetically. “We’re only eleven, we’re too-”

“I’m thirteen.”

The other girl was cut off, her lips still parted as to continue her sentence. “But you’re a first-year! All witches and wizards go to hogwarts at eleven, I am sure…”

“Not me,” Ellinor smiled, her eyes glistering smugly, as though she was setting up another one of her jokes. Her mouth twitched.

The red-haired girl ( _Gingergirl_ , Ellinor made a mental note in her head) looked perplexed and put her head on the side. “Why?”

“Things came up.” She stretched. “School ain’t for everyone, ya know?”

The other girl didn’t know. But she nodded, and didn’t push the issue further. She didn’t push any issue further, as a matter of fact, and instead sat back to watch the bigger girl in front of her. Ellinor’s teeth flashed, she threw her hair, and her laughter once again rang through the room.

“So what happens at Hogwarts? I read on one of those forums you've got that people die there like every year and also that there are actual real ghosts of real dead people creeping around there? Don’t you have like, wizard Ghostbusters?”

Despite her earlier decision, the red-haired girl once again bounced up from her seat. “You can _not_ just _say_ that!” She looked around at the other girls for a reaction, for support. They all sat quiet. The girl in the furthest corner looked away as soon as she got caught staring, but kept looking back towards the scene. “They’re people, they’re old!” she continued, on her own. “You have to _respect_ them! My mum said those ghost exterminators are _murderers_ anyways, and those movies aren’t funny…”

“Oh, take it easy, girl!” Ellinor smiled at her. “Didn’t mean to upset anyone, I always thought ghosts were just another type of monster, like minotaurs or Frankensteins!”

“Frankens-”

“My sister’s boyfriend is a ghost.”

A few seconds of silence. One. Two. Thr-

“ _WHAT!?_ ”

“Is that legal?”

“My dad once told me of a massacre in Hampshire where-”

“That is _so_ gross.”

“Is he one thousand years old?”

“I wish my boyfriend was a gho-”

“Is that _legal_?”

“ _HEY!_ ” The room fell quiet. Ellinor had risen, and was now standing up in her enormous height with her arms outstretched. Her huge, wild mess of a hair did nothing to lessen her intimidating, amazonlike stature. “Stop screaming. That is literally the coolest shit I ever heard.” She looked to the girl who had spoken, who was still sat in the corner, despite the chaos that had followed her confession.

She had been quiet the entire train ride. Ellinor would have expected her to be sat quivering, trying to keep how upset the screaming had made her under cover. But her back was straight, and her eyes were set in stone. Ellinor followed the girl’s gaze, and it burrowed its way into the redhead girl’s eyes.

“What did you say?”

The ginger girl opened her mouth, seemingly stunned for a second, before she pushed her chin forward and shook her hair before turning her face into a confident smile. “I said I think it’s gross.”

“What is?”

“Your sister dating some old ghost,” the girl responded, still trying to hold her confident posture, though, in actuality, she was becoming a bit less sure of herself. The other girl’s aura had changed.

The quiet girl shook her long, dark hair loose. It was bleached at its tips, but other than that, her person and aura suddenly seemed very dark. Black cloaks, black cape, and deep, dark, dark eyes.

“Maybe you should tell her that yourself,” the dark-haired girl suggested. “I’m sure she would want to hear your opinion.”

The other girl narrowed her eyes. She always prided herself on her intelligence. Her teachers had always told her that she was very smart for her age, and she always seemed to become the leader of all her friend groups. But now, she was completely and utterly lost. She tried hard not to stutter. “Excuse me, what?”

“My sister. Professor Calderon. Haven’t you read the class-and-teacher list?” She scoffed and pointed to her bag. “Haven’t you seen my suitcase, either? it says it right there, Anya _Calderon_ . Anyway...” she flipped her hair. “She is _always_ telling me about all the things her students tell her. She really _does_ think they’re all very smart! I _bet_ she would like _you_...” she let the last word drip off of her tongue.

Ellinor looked in shock at the girl who she now knew was called Anya. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it, but something about the way the girl  spoke really rubbed her the wrong way. “I think you should stop,” she said, but no one seemed to pay her any attention. Not even her loud personality could tear the other girls’ attention away from the electrical scene that was unfolding in front of them.

Now the red-haired girl really did stutter. Ellinor had not seen how small she really was until now. “P-professor?” She looked horrified. Ellinor felt really bad for her - her skin had become sickly white and her eyes seemed glassy. Her hair seemed even redder than before. Ellinor noticed she had brown eyes, light brown.

“Oh yeah...Yeah, she’s the Head of Gryffindor, actually. Do you _reckon_ you will be sorted into Gryffindor? Wouldn’t that be nice? Then we two can become good friends! We could visit Elma togethe-”

“Oh, lay off already!”

Everyone turned to look at the girl who had just spoken. She was the one sitting the closest to Gingergirl. She was very cute, Ellinor noticed, and had long bleached hair down to her waist. Ellinor thought she must be from a witch family, since her hair had probably been black and still there seemed to be no damage or split ends to it. The girl held her arms crossed and her lips curled up into a smug grin.

“...Bitch.”

One. Two. Thr-

“Oh my _god_!” Ellinor’s laughter resounded in the stunned silence. All the girls were sitting staring at the blonde girl. Some horrified. Some in awe. “You’re really something, aren’t ya?” She wiped her eye. “You know what? From now on, I’m rolling with you.”

The blonde blinked. Then again. She scooted closer to Gingergirl to leave room for Ellinor to sit, placing her hand in Gingergirl’s. “Sure,” she said, shooting Anya a poisonous look. She stretched out her small hand - the one that Gingergirl wasn’t holding - to Ellinor, who took it. It was very smooth. “Nia,” she introduced herself with a firm grip. She nodded to the girl Ellinor had dubbed Gingergirl. “And she’s Christy.”

Ellinor grinned. “Ellinor.” She looked to Ginge- _Christy_. “Pleasure.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A consistant writing style? Not in my house. This chapter did not at all lead to or end where I had planned...


End file.
